Tortured-Artist Saint - Dead Confederate

She’s a cold bitch in honest company

Cut you with lies and lead you on

She carries knives instead of necklaces

Her eyes gleam at the spire you’re on

She’d steal the stone that’s on your grave

She’s no one’s tortured artist saint

Just turn your back and give her an easy way

To take what you need and give what you don’t

Just give some time and know you might conquer this

Waste of a life to call your own